


Skinwalker

by polandspringz



Category: gen:LOCK (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Inspired by a prompt, Torture, Whumptomber 2020, it's not that bad or graphic but that's kind of the plot so i gotta tag it as such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polandspringz/pseuds/polandspringz
Summary: Sinclair is captured by the Union.
Kudos: 1





	Skinwalker

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a request that has been sitting in my inbox for over a year! The prompt was from a list of "first sentence" starters for the story, so I had to work around that parameter. This is one of the shortest stories I've ever written, but I still hope you enjoy! (Note that the "torture" in this story is not super graphic but it might make some uncomfortable nonetheless)

“Maybe this will keep that big mouth of yours shut,” the man hissed with a sibilant grin as he placed his knee onto the chair, right beside Sinclair’s hip, and leaned over him as he reached up somewhere above Sinclair’s head, “You should be thankful we have technology that can do this job. It’s slow, but it’s definitely better than me skinning your face off and turning it into a mask, right?”

  
Sinclair didn’t respond. His hoarse throat continued to cling to that one scream he had left in his lungs as his body flailed and fought against the knife pinning him down to the dentist chair he had been woken up in.

The man pulled a mobile-like metal device forward overhead, and then from the metal tools and gadgets in it, he selected a round, hollow device that would curve perfectly over anyone’s face. He smirked as he took out another small blade, it was barely bigger than a palette knife, and let the mask-device hover in the air as he pressed down on the restrained man’s shoulder and dragged the sharp edge along his throat.

“Haha, I bet that would be fun, wouldn’t it? We’ll have to try it sometime. Maybe if this fails, they’ll let me just do that. Now, make sure you smile _nice_ and _wide_ when wearing this,” he said. He was now straddling Sinclair in the chair, crawling up him as he brought the down harder so while it was still dancing along his exposed skin, he sliced little rivulets open that dripped down and pooled in his collarbone, “I want to make sure when I steal gen:LOCK and kill the rest of the recruits, I look my best after all. Or should I say… _we’ll_ look our best. Right, _Robert?”_

He ran the knife along Sinclair’s chin, grazing it underneath his lips. He dropped the blade onto him and gripped his face roughly when he wouldn’t stop screaming.

“I said I want to see you _smile,”_ the Union officer grinned wildly as his free hand reached behind him and yanked the mask towards him, “You’re going to be wearing this for a _long_ time. It’s best if you enjoy it.”

The knife slid off Sinclair’s face as the mask was fitted over it, and something within the face-like cast of the metal forced itself between his teeth as the metal closed around his ears, sealing in his eyes, nose, and air. For a moment, Sinclair was silent, shutting his eyes as he tried to breathe and take in the darkness while machines began to whirr faintly in the background.

Briefly, some rationality came back to his thoughts.

_They said you were an important person. You were vital to this new program. They wouldn’t let you die that easily. They’ll come get you. You just have to survive this and-_

“I can’t wait to wear _your smile,_ ” the man whispered, and Sinclair felt the knife slide from his neck to his left shoulder, “I’ll make sure it's nice and big when they take my picture and label you across all their systems as a _traitor.”_

The man watched Sinclair’s fingers twitch lightly against the chair. He couldn’t speak from behind the mask. The man sighed.

_How boring._

He tapped some controls on his rusty, electronic watch, and the scanner flared to life, “Well, we’ve only got a few hours of fun left. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you entertained.”

The knife went cleanly through Sinclair’s shoulder. The man brandished several more along his belt.

“We’ve got just as good regenerative tech as the Polity, but like everything outdated here, it’s terribly slow. Let’s hope you’ve got the guts to handle it.”

Another knife glistened in the low, green light of the makeshift operating room. It came down and the light was drowned out as it swam in blood.

**Author's Note:**

> The Polity in Episode 2: Sinclair is kind of sus
> 
> I would like to thank my friend Tea for beta-reading this for me!!!


End file.
